Terminus
by Gramarye
Summary: Utena ties up some loose ends. Set immediately after the series ends, with all the spoilers thereof.


A little, or not so little, idea that had been flitting through my head  
was the inspiration for this story. The product of many obsessive   
hours of study and analysis, it takes place after Episode 39, with   
obvious spoilers for the entire series.  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. Shoujo Kakumei Utena is the property of   
Chiho Saito, Be-Papas, TV Tokyo, and various other international   
companies involved in its production and distribution.  
  
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Terminus  
By: Gramarye  
  
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Either you had no purpose  
Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured  
And is altered in fulfilment.  
  
-- T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets--Little Gidding  
  
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It was a high-pitched whistling sound that woke me, I think. It   
sounded a little like the dented old sewing machine that my aunt used   
when I was young, when I heard the rhythmic noise late at night through  
my closed bedroom door. It sounded a little like cold wind slipping   
through a chink in the window. Whatever it was, it hummed and thrummed  
until sleep decided to leave me and find someone else to curl up with.  
  
I opened my eyes just a crack, my mind still groggy and not fully   
awake. Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room, bright enough to   
make me idly wonder if Himemiya had overslept--she usually woke me up   
on school days, worried that my noisy alarm clock would disturb   
Chu-chu. Even so, I'd know if she was still asleep. She always   
snored, just a little bit.  
  
/She must have let me sleep later than normal./ I rubbed my eyes,   
stretched and rolled over, searching for my slippers.  
  
I promptly found myself on the floor, dazed and bruised from my fall.  
  
Rubbing the sore spot on my head, I opened my eyes fully and stared at   
the sturdy wooden bunk bed and neatly arranged furniture of my room in   
the East Dormitory.  
  
/When...when did we move back in here? Why aren't we in the tower with  
Akio...san..../  
  
A sudden explosion of brutal pain in my chest knocked me flat on my   
back. Wave after wave of cold nausea swept through me, and I curled   
into a fetal position, knees pressed tightly to my body to try and stop   
the awful burning inside me. No sickness I'd ever had hurt as much,   
not raging menstrual cramps or stomach flu or the aftermath of one of   
Himemiya's cooking experiments.   
  
It subsided slowly, pain receding to a dull ache just behind my   
breastbone. There was a faintly sour, metallic taste in my mouth, as   
if I had been drinking water straight from a garden hose. With a   
series of grunts, I stumbled to my feet and used the familiar furniture  
as a crutch to get to the closet. I needed clothes and a shower before   
I could even imagine pondering anything else.  
  
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After a short shower in rusty-smelling and tepid water, I slowly padded   
around the room, my damp fingers idly tracing patterns in the layers of   
dust on the furniture. Except for the fluffy brown dust on everything   
and a slightly musty smell, our room hadn't changed since we left it to   
live in the tower.  
  
/Himemiya...what's happened to her?/  
  
I hadn't dared to venture outside the dormitory. The possibility of   
running into Miki-kun, or Touga...or heaven forbid, Akio-san, was far   
too great. Even seeing Wakaba wouldn't be a good idea. There was no   
way to explain....  
  
/Explain what?/ I wondered. /How can I explain what happened when I'm   
not even sure myself?/  
  
In the shower, I had noticed a thin gash across my back, between and   
just below my shoulder blades. Encrusted blood edged the wound, which   
throbbed angrily in the stream of murky water. The rest of the shower   
was spent contorting my body in all manner of positions, trying to get   
clean while avoiding the uncomfortable feeling of the water on my   
aching back.  
  
I had torn up a clean sheet to bind the sore spot, wrapping it around   
and around my torso. When I had finished, I was swathed from armpits   
to navel in white cotton, my breasts non-existant. While it didn't   
flatter my naturally boyish figure, it kept my clothing from chafing   
the already tender area. And in terms of clothing, I was tempted to   
wear my "uniform", but settled for a well-worn sweater and pair of   
trousers.   
  
My toilette done, I flopped into a chair with a gusty sigh. Dust motes   
swirled in the sunlight that tried to shine through the filthy   
windowpanes. I sat there for a while, watching the sunlight move   
in bars across the floor. I wasn't thinking about anything--one of   
those strangely zen moments that always seem to come at the wrong   
times.  
  
The shadows had mostly faded by the time I decided to get out of that   
chair. The room was uncomfortably warm, and I needed to move around.   
  
Without even thinking, I shrugged my jacket onto my shoulders and   
opened the door of our...my...*the* room.  
  
The East Dorm was filthy--floors not scrubbed, furniture draped in   
dingy dustcloths, windows and mirrors caked with thick layers of grime.  
It was almost painful to see my former home in such disarray. Himemiya  
had always kept it spotless, though I couldn't image how much time it   
must have taken to clean and maintain an entire dorm, to keep it   
looking presentable. I'd never really thought about it before.  
  
I tried not to touch the gritty-looking bannister as I walked   
downstairs and out the front door.   
  
The building itself looked slightly more disheveled than I remembered.   
The gutters and rainspouts hadn't been cleaned, and the ivy and other   
climbing vines threatened to engulf a significant portion of the   
dormitory. It made me a little sad to look at the dirty windows--I   
half fancied I could hear Himemiya humming tunelessly as she busied   
herself with cloths and buckets of steaming, soapy water. The East   
Dorm sorely missed her gentle touch.  
  
Turning my back on my old home, I set off on a leisurely stroll. It   
soon brought me to the middle of campus. The grounds were completely   
deserted--everyone was in class after lunch. A few discarded   
prepackaged food wrappers made crinkling noises as the light wind   
brushed past them.  
  
I don't know exactly what happened at that moment. I was watching the   
wrapper of a candy bar whirl around in a sudden updraft, and then the   
whole world shifted beneath my feet and I was standing in the shadows   
of the courtyard corridor, and then there was Himemiya in my line of   
sight, walking quietly toward me.  
  
A flicker of nausea turned my stomach, and my mind jangled with a   
sickeningly discordant sense of displacement. The wound on my back   
burned briefly but painfully, as if someone had set a white-hot poker   
between my shoulders and pressed down for a moment.  
  
I'm certain that my mouth was hanging open wide enough to catch flies.   
And I think I remained that way until she passed by the pillar in front  
of me, continuing down the corridor. She didn't even look at the   
greenhouse, or even pause in her stride as she walked past.  
  
This from the girl who seemed to spend most of her waking hours   
prodding at the roses that bloomed inside its glass walls.  
  
I quickly followed her at a safe pace, afraid to go near her, terrified  
that if I tried to speak to her or touch her, a magic spell would be   
broken and she would vanish like a burst soap bubble. I followed her   
doggedly, just close enough to always keep her in my sight, but far   
enough away to avoid suspicion. She turned a corner, crossing behind   
the main high school building. For a moment I thought I had lost   
her--only to catch up to her standing before the Chairman's tower.  
  
She stopped at the elevator, and pressed the little pearl button next   
to it. The doors slid noiselessly open. She stepped inside, and the   
doors closed. The little light above the elevator began its slow   
journey to the far right as the elevator rose.  
  
Like a fool, I nearly pressed the button. I caught myself just before   
my finger touched it, realizing that I would be a fool to get caught up  
in whatever was going on up there. Yet the need to follow Himemiya was  
stronger that my common sense, and I resolutely began to climb the fire  
staircase inside the column.   
  
/Akio-san might be many things,/ I thought, /but he's not fireproof.   
At least I have no trouble with long flights of stairs./  
  
The fire exit in the tower was concealed behind a curtain, since   
flawing the elegant architecture of the top floor with a health   
code-mandated addition was repugnant to its owner. I took care to   
move very slowly and quietly, passing through the bedroom Himemiya and   
I had shared, then peering cautiously around the doorway into the   
Chairman's quarters.  
  
Both Himemiya and Akio-san were in there. Himemiya stood in front of   
Akio-san, and he was at his desk, working industriously on his   
computer.  
  
Feeling like the mustache-twirling villain in an old-fashioned comic   
drama, I crept from my spying place and hid behind the planetarium   
projector. My position provided me with a clear view of Himemiya and   
the rest of the room, although the back of Akio-san's head blocked my   
view of the computer screen.  
  
Himemiya faced him, hands folded placidly in front of her. Chuchu,   
looking tired and strangely listless, sat on the desk next to several   
envelopes. My fists clenched unconsciously at the sight of the rose   
seal pasted neatly over the flap.  
  
"It hasn't been that long since then, but everybody's forgotten about   
her completely," Akio-san said, his voice frighteningly casual. "She   
didn't cause a Revolution after all." His fingers raced over the   
keyboard. "Now that she's gone, she was just a dropout to this world."  
  
If he had thought that he could elict a response from her, he was   
disappointed. Himemiya didn't move, and her bland, vacant   
expression--the one I hated so much--didn't change.  
  
Calmly, he continued. "I have to rebuild the Code of the Rose Signet   
from scratch. I'm counting on you, Anthy."  
  
There was a soft click as Himemiya removed her glasses and placed them   
on the table in front of him. Something deep inside me squirmed   
momentarily, inexplicably. But a second later, Chuchu slipped off his   
tie, removed his earring, and placed both on the table next to his   
mistress' glasses.  
  
"You don't know what happened, do you?" Anthy said quietly.  
  
Startled, Akio-san looked up from the computer monitor. "Eh?"  
  
She stared at him gravely. "It's all right now. Please continue   
playing the make-believe 'Prince' in this comfortable little coffin   
forever." She turned away from the desk and walked toward the   
elevator. "However, I must go."  
  
I could only imagine the look on Akio-san's face. "Go? Where?"  
  
From over her shoulder, Anthy replied, "That person hasn't vanished.   
She's merely left *your* world."  
  
"What're you talking about?" He leapt out of his chair, papers and   
sealed envelopes scattering wildy and falling to the floor. "W-wait a   
minute! Anthy!"  
  
She didn't stop. She didn't turn back, not even to look at him.  
  
"ANTHY!!" he shouted, desperation tinging his cry.  
  
"Farewell." The doors of the elevator slowly slid shut.  
  
The bells that had signaled the start and end of each successive duel   
began to ring just then, pealing out with the ethereal power and beauty   
of a church carillion on Christmas morning. Akio-san collapsed into   
his leather chair and seemed to wilt, defeated by their loud clamour.   
  
If he heard the elevator bell ring, and the door slide open and closed   
one more time, he showed no sign of hearing it.  
  
Once in the elevator, I cheered out loud, my heart singing in silent   
triumph. Himemiya was free--free of that horrible penance that forced   
her to be the Rose Bride, free from her brother's control. She wasn't   
a mindless, suffering puppet anymore. I did a silly little dance, too,  
capering on my toes and giggling happily.  
  
When I reached the ground, for a horrible moment I feared I would   
discover that Himemiya had vanished. The relief I felt when the doors   
opened and I saw her facing the front gate of the academy made my   
stomach quiver.  
  
My breath caught in my throat at the wonderful sight. With her glasses  
gone, her bag packed, and a smart rosy pink traveling suit that had   
magically appeared in place of the dowdy regulation skirt, Himemiya was  
a different woman. I found myself gazing at her in awe, trying to find  
in this beautiful and self-possessed lady any trace of the quiet   
schoolgirl and sometime 'trophy' I had known.  
  
Chuchu scrambled up and onto her shoulder, a small blue and white   
handkerchief slung over his back. It was filled with food, I had no   
doubt, but I had to suppress a quiet chuckle at the sight. Anthy   
smiled indulgently at him, then turned to face the front gates.  
  
"Now it's my turn to go to you," she said quietly, speaking to herself.  
"No matter where you are, I'll find you for sure. Wait for me, Utena."  
  
With barely a pause, she stepped lightly through the gates of Ohtori.  
I ran after her, happily crying her name, but just before I reached the  
entrance to the academy, I ran into a wall.  
  
Or what felt like a wall, since the gates were wide open.  
  
It's hard to describe exactly what was keeping me from following   
Himemiya. It was a little like a wall, in the fact that it was hard   
and absolutely unyielding. It was like a pane of newly-cleaned glass,   
since it was perfectly transparent. Whatever it was, I threw myself at  
it, trying to break through and run after Himemiya. It didn't move.  
  
I kept hurling myself at the invisible barrier, feeling the pain   
increase as my heart pounded. Bruising my arms and shoulders, scraping  
my knees when I fell, blood dripping in coppery rivulets from my   
mouth--I must have bitten my lip or tongue somewhere along the way.  
  
As I gathered up my strength for one final assault, I heard that same   
high-pitched whistling that had awakened me in the morning. But this   
time, the sound of someone talking quietly was mixed in with the   
maddening hum. It sounded like my own voice, but the whistling drone   
behind it nearly drowned out the words.  
  
"Say, if anything is troubling you, talk to me about it...I want to be   
your friend. And someday, with me..."  
  
"Someday, with you?" The voice that replied might have been   
Himemiya's--my head was spinning too badly to concentrate.  
  
"Himemiya...I'm...right here...." I wheezed as pain screamed in my   
chest, driving the breath out of my lungs. Through blurry eyes, I   
could see her less than a hundred yards away from me, walking away   
from Ohtori--yet I knew she'd never hear me, not if I shouted her name   
as loudly as I could. I didn't feel my knees wobble and my legs give   
way as I collapsed onto the pavement.  
  
I don't know how long I knelt there, crumpled on the ground like a   
discarded marionette. My mind whirled, wild and disjointed thoughts   
careening around inside my head. I screamed, sobbed, cursed, threw   
things, howled in frustration and anger--but only inside my head. My   
body wouldn't move.  
  
"Are you going to stay like that forever?"  
  
The male voice sounded slightly amused, although the levity didn't   
register in my brain for several seconds. I lifted my head a fraction,  
just enough to stare into a pair of dark blue eyes.  
  
"Are you going to stay like that forever?" the voice repeated. I gazed   
without emotion at the tall man who stood next to me. I should have   
recognized him instantly--after all, no one else I knew had hair that   
color, with that unruly forelock--but for some reason I couldn't put   
face and hair and voice together very quickly.  
  
"Ruka-sempai?" I ventured cautiously.  
  
He nodded.   
  
"I thought you were dead." The first coherent sentence I could make,   
and it had to be that one.  
  
Ruka seemed to take no notice, however. "It is a pleasure to see you   
again, oujisama," he said with a small smile.   
  
I flinched. "Don't!" I snarled, clenching my hands into fists. "Don't  
call me that...don't mock me."  
  
Ruka raised an eyebrow. "You can't tell me that you've given up   
already, oujisama."  
  
"I'm not a prince!" I shouted. The effort of raising my voice made the   
pain return, and I pressed a hand against my heart in a feeble attempt   
to relieve the agony. "It was just pretend," I said weakly, "just a   
lie I told myself to make believe that I was someone special."  
  
"For a lie, it certainly was effective," Ruka replied, extending a thin  
hand in an offer to help me to my feet.  
  
I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reply, but I couldn't   
ignore the gesture. I took his slim, cold hand, and he pulled me to my  
feet without much exertion on his part.  
  
"You can't give up now. We're counting on you." he said.  
  
"We?" I looked around at the deserted campus, then back at him.   
"There's no one else here."  
  
Ruka's mouth twitched.  
  
"I enjoyed watching your last duel. There was true desperation there,   
something I hadn't seen in any Duellist since Saionji's response to   
your victory. Both fighting to regain or retain their tenuous hold on   
reality."  
  
I didn't answer him. A sickening feeling had begun to grow in the pit   
of my stomach, making my insides churn nauseatingly.  
  
"Despite what you may think, Saionji wasn't...sorry, I should say   
*isn't*, an incompetent," Ruka continued placidly. "One doesn't end up  
as captain of the kendo club for nothing. But in terms of fighting   
styles, Touga could--and, as I'm sure you noticed, *did*--beat him   
quite easily. What Miki lacks in experience and strength, he makes up   
for in stamina and skill. And Juri...." Ruka trailed off, lost in   
thought. After a moment, he shook his head abruptly, as if to clear   
his mind. "Juri could defeat him. No question."  
  
While Ruka was speaking, I felt a change in the air. The campus   
seemed to shiver, and the familiar outlines of buildings wavered and   
melted together. I rubbed my eyes and blinked several times, trying   
to clear my vision. When everything finally returned to normal, I   
gasped.  
  
A large crowd of people stood on the formerly deserted campus lawn,   
gathered behind Ruka. They wore various outfits, none of which I could  
clearly distinguish. In fact, I couldn't even see their faces   
properly--their features shifted and changed, blurred together like a   
wet watercolor.   
  
Ruka shook his head slowly. "You certainly weren't the first person to  
be Victor. You won the Rose Bride from Saionji. Who do you imagine he  
won her from?"  
  
/Former captain of the fencing team./ "You, of course." While the   
thought would have never entered my mind at any other time, the logic   
was inescapable.  
  
"Isn't it amazing how important the promise of revolution can be to   
someone? And the fact that one's opponent is half-dead at the time is   
possibly the best part." He shook his head at his self-depreciating   
humor, then continued. "All of us failed, oujisama. All of us, former  
Victors of the Duel, or whatever the Chosen One was called at the time.  
We failed to Revolutionize the world, and as punishment, we are trapped  
here."  
  
"All of you?" I exclaimed.  
  
"Ah, but surely you must have wondered about the concept before. I   
doubt if anyone could be that grossly insensitive or that hideously   
naive to not wonder," said an unfamiliar voice.  
  
A hush fell over the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash  
of pink, a shade lighter than the color of my own hair. The crowd   
parted in respectful silence as a young man walked toward me. One look  
at his face, with its arrogant smile and far-away eyes, was enough for   
me to remember a part of my life so inexplicably forgotten.  
  
My world tilted nauseatingly upon its axis, and the ground seemed to   
fall away beneath me as I said his name. "Mikage Souji."  
  
"Not exactly right, but it will do for now," he replied, inclining his   
head gracefully in my direction. Without turning his head, he   
addressed Ruka. "You have told her what she must do?"  
  
"Not yet," Ruka answered, nodding respectfully. The change in his   
manner was dramatic--the confident fencing captain, bowing to *Mikage*,  
of all people!  
  
"Then I will." Mikage delicately cleared his throat. "You have saved   
one person, oujisama. Are you prepared to save more?"  
  
"Save?" I repeated dumbly. "From what? And how?"  
  
"Is the what so important? Princes usually do not stop to ask such   
pointless questions," Mikage said delicately. "And as for the how...."  
He mimicked the removal of a sword from a sheath.  
  
I tried to speak, but only succeeded in making a rusty croak.  
  
Mikage lowered his hands, never taking his eyes away from mine. "When   
I see you now, it fascinates me to remember what you said to me at our   
last meeting but one. What was it you said...." His voice suddenly   
altered, changing to a slightly husky version of my own. "'I'll beat   
you to a pulp and prove that I'm different from you!'" He cleared his   
throat a second time, and his voice returned to normal. "Yes, that   
was it."   
  
A sharp stab of pain darkened my senses momentarily.  
  
Mikage smiled--not a nice smile, I thought. "I think you also called   
me a 'string-pulling bastard', if memory serves me right. Then again,   
memories can be so *malleable*, can't they?" He moved closer to me;   
his intense eyes with their fanatical gleam boring their way into my   
mind. "You should know, oujisama."   
  
I pointedly ignored his last words. "I remember fighting you. I also   
remember that I won," I said, my voice low and calm. "And after that   
you weren't there anymore. And until a minute ago, I'd all but   
forgotten you."  
  
Mikage tilted his head slightly. "You've been subjected to the same   
treatment as I. 'Graduated' from these illustrious halls of learning.   
Vanished, gone without a trace. No one clearly remembers the dashing   
Tenjou Utena, just as no one remembers the charismatic Mikage Souji, or  
the brilliant professor named Nemuro. But like myself, like all of us,   
you are still here. And you cannot leave. No one can--at least,   
not without *his* permission."  
  
I found my voice at last. "So you want me to free you, all of you,   
from this place. Why should I?"  
  
Mikage sighed quietly. "Because of who you are, oujisama."  
  
All of my anger came surging back. "WHY?!" I exploded. "Why should I   
help *you*, or Ruka...or any of you who used Himemiya for your own   
purposes, never thinking about her as anything more than a tool to get   
what you wanted. So you failed, and I succeeded, and now you want me   
to help you. Well, Mikage, or whoever you are, you can forget it.   
Because I have no intention of assisting someone who once manipulated   
my life, trying to kill Himemiya, trying to turn those I care for   
against me."  
  
"If you don't intend to listen to reason--"  
  
"Reason?" I said witheringly. "Reason? You're the last person I would  
expect to hear talking about *reason*. You're stark raving mad, for   
lack of a better word."  
  
"I thought you would have more sense than this, Tokiko," Mikage   
replied, a bitter smile twisting his lips.  
  
"I imagine that seeing my best friend turned into a soulless doll has   
something to do with my opinion of....what did you just call me?" I   
said, startled out of my diatribe.  
  
Before my eyes, the arrogant sneer quickly melted from his face. He   
blinked several times, shaking his head slightly, as if to clear his   
thoughts. He seemed to age immeasurably as I watched, his body   
slumping, as he looked around with bewildered and almost paranoid eyes.  
  
"Even when he has no further use for me, he continues to torment me,"   
he mumbled. He lifted his head slightly and stared at me, his pale   
face haunted and haggard. "You have every reason to loathe me,   
oujisama. I understand that. I have no right to ask you for anything.  
I accept that. But we..." and with that he waved his hand behind him,   
indicating Ruka and the hazy crowd--who had remained silent all this   
time--"...we need you."  
  
"To kill him," I said quietly but forcefully. "That's what you want me  
to do, am I right?"  
  
"The Prince will do the right thing," Mikage replied blandly, without   
emotion.  
  
"The 'right thing' meaning that you'd prefer him dead."  
  
Ruka stepped forward, speaking for the first time since Mikage had   
taken control of the conversation. "If nothing else will free us, then  
we would accept the fact that you had no other options."  
  
His words sounded tinny, rehearsed many times before. Something deep   
inside me told me to overlook that warning note, brush it aside for   
now.  
  
I folded my arms across my chest, wincing only slightly when the   
muscles in my back stretched and pulled the edges of the healing wound   
apart. "What will happen to you, then?" I asked.  
  
A soft noise made me turn my head to look at Mikage again. An almost   
beatific smile had erased the pain from his tired face. "Release, I   
pray. A chance to be reunited with...well, the name is of no   
importance. Or perhaps oblivion...it doesn't really matter. But I   
will graduate, of my own free will, and be at peace. And so will  
everyone else. You also, I assume."  
  
I turned my gaze to Ruka, the unspoken question plain in my eyes.  
  
He nodded once. "You performed my task for me, even if you didn't   
realize what you had done. Cut that damned golden albatross from her   
neck. I was certain that I was free from the academy--I died, I   
imagine, with the proverbial smile on my lips. And yet I found myself   
here."  
  
I returned his nod. "Because you had failed, and had allowed someone   
else to win your battles for you."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"So therefore, if I set all of you free, as I did with Himemiya, then   
I'll be allowed to leave?"  
  
"That is the likely outcome."  
  
My mouth settled into a line of grim determination. "Then I'll do it."  
  
I frowned slightly at the pure relief that crossed Ruka's face. "But   
I'm not doing it for you--understand that right now. I'm doing for the   
all the people that cannot help you be free, that in some small way act   
as a part of your chains. For Juri-sempai, and for...." My mind   
whirled and cleared, settling on a name that I had never heard before,   
but one I had always known. "....For young Mamiya."  
  
Mikage's sudden sharp intake of breath--a ragged gasp that was closer   
to a sob--and a rustling murmur from the shady crowd made me continue   
haltingly. "I will be your prince, in their name."  
  
"But what are you going to do?" Ruka asked.  
  
I smiled mirthlessly. "When I reach the top floor and look him   
straight in the eyes...that's when I'll know what to do."  
  
With that, my right hand flew to my chest. A sharp, surprisingly   
painless pull later, I held my glittering sword in a steady hand. I   
turned on my heel and stalked toward the tower that dominated the   
academy.  
  
Bringing the Revolution home.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Gramarye  
gramarye@mailandnews.com  
http://gramarye.freehosting.net/  
April 22, 2001 


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